by J. M. Snyder
“Um,” I don’t know what to say. “Is Andrew there?”
“Just a minute.” The phone knocks against the counter as he sets it down. “Andrew?” I hear him yell. “Tony, tell Andrew he has a call.”
My heart pounds in my ears, the rush of blood loud as the surf, drowning out the rest of the world, and then he picks up the phone, his voice as deep as I remember it, a little breathless because he hurried to answer. “Hello?”
What am I supposed to say now?
“Hello?” he asks again.
I hang up. I can’t even say hi, I’m a wuss, he gave me his number and I called it and chickened out. Fuck. Chad comes in and frowns at me. “You can at least look busy.”
“There’s no one here,” I mutter. I can’t believe I hung up on Andrew. “How about we close up and go home?”
Chad laughs. “How about you watch the place while I run out for dinner?” When it’s just the two of us working, Chad makes a run down the boardwalk for something to eat—we both get sick of ice cream after a while and we’re only a few blocks from midway, with its numerous fast food joints and hoagie shops and …
Romano’s Pizzeria.
Once Chad leaves maybe I can get up the courage to call Andrew again. Maybe this time I can think of something to say.
But I’m scared he knows it was me who called. He’ll wonder why I hung up, and I can’t bring myself to try again. So I lean over the counter and doodle on one of the napkins, writing his name over and over like some lovesick schoolboy. He gave me his number and that means he likes me, right? I draw a heart around his name and color in the edges with my red pen, wishing I could call him again and not feel like a fool.
“Hey there.”
I look up to find him standing in front of the counter. I ball up the napkin before he can see his name scribbled across it, but from the smirk on his face, I think he already saw. “Hey.”
Why didn’t I hear him come in? The door’s open. So he knew it was me, he had to or he would’ve never walked down here to see me. Trying to remember my manners, I ask, “What can I do you for?”
His smile widens—that didn’t come out the way I wanted. My cheeks heat up and I roll my eyes, he probably thinks I’m an idiot. “I mean…”
He leans across the counter and pins me down with that crystalline gaze of his, trapping me. I can’t move, can’t think, can’t breathe, and his voice is low and husky when he asks, “What do you have in mind?”
Right now a lot of things swirl through my mind but they all involve the two of us naked and sweaty and locked in a passionate embrace, writhing in throes of lust and desire and the way he’s grinning makes me think his mind is full of the same sordid things. Playing it safe, I ask, “Did you want some ice cream?”
He shrugs, a little roll of his shoulders that makes me want to reach out and touch him, just to see if he’s real, but I don’t dare. “I guess.”
I get the impression that’s not what he wanted me to say. But you have a girl. And where exactly does she figure into this? What girlfriend goes out of her way to hook her boy up with another?
I don’t ask. Instead I suggest, “Try the Mocha Almond Fudge.” He stares at me and I can’t look away, I know I’m blushing but I have to add, “It has nuts in it. Do you like nuts?”
That deep laugh again, and the twinkle in his eye tells me we’re thinking the same thing. “Are they hard?”
God. “Yeah, but the chocolate melts in your mouth, it’s so good.”
He raises one eyebrow. “How good is it, Sean?”
“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” I tease.
“How about a sample then?”
Are we still talking about ice cream? Because I’m not. Not by a long shot.
I feel him watching me as I open the freezer and scoop ice cream into one of the tiny sample cups. I hope he sees my taut muscles and wonders how it would feel to be held in my arms, because they ache for him right this second.
It’s more than the usual sample, but then again, he isn’t the usual customer, is he? I smash the ice cream into the little cup, getting it all over my hand in the process. It’s cold and creamy and I’m going to lick it away the minute he takes the cup from me. But when I hold it out he leans forward, lips closing over my fingers with a warmth and softness that feels heavenly. He stares at me, daring me to say something, and I can’t because his tongue is licking between my fingers and doing horrible things to my stomach, making my groin throb, making me hurt from wanting him. He takes the cup from my nerveless fingers while his lips stay latched to my hand, his tongue tasting my skin. Then he slips my fingertips into his mouth and oh my God I can’t pull away, not now, not ever.
Finally he lets go and smiles at me. “I like the way it tastes.” Is he talking about the ice cream or me? “Very sweet.”
“Do you want more?” I ask, my voice thick.
He smiles. “When do you get off tonight?”
Almost got off just now, I think, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Ten.”
“Can I come by then?” he asks. “Walk you home?”
“Please?”
* * * *
When my shift ends I’m out the door, looking through the crowds for Andrew, but he’s no where around. Crossing the boardwalk to lean against the railing, I stare past the lights and noise from the piers into the darkness beyond, where the sea mutters to itself. There’s a strong breeze coming off the shore that makes me wish I brought a jacket. Maybe Andrew will put his arm around me and pull me close. Maybe he’ll come in—my apartment’s a mess, but I don’t think the lights will be on for long. I can’t believe he wants to walk me home. Me. I wonder if he thought about me last night, if he woke up with my name on his lips, my eyes behind his. I wonder…
“Hey,” Andrew says, right behind me, his lips brushing against my ear as one arm snakes around my waist. I turn to find myself caught up in his arms. His eyes reflect the neon lights of the boards and his hand is so warm on my back that I can’t keep from grinning. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No problem.” The night around us has disappeared, the crowds, the rides, everything is gone but him and me and the railing I’m leaning against, his arm behind me. He’s wearing a shirt that says Romano’s on it, and I tap against the word with one finger. “You work there?” I feel his nipple harden beneath the fabric as I trail my finger down his chest.
His smile widens. “I’ve known Tony forever.” Leaning closer, he whispers, “You smell sweet, Sean. Like dessert.” His breath tickles my neck, and his hand clenches at my back, balling my shirt into his fist. “A perfect way to end a perfect day.”
I laugh, embarrassed. “God, you and Chad.” When Andrew snickers against my neck, I place my hands flat on his chest as if to hold him back. “Can I ask you a question?”
His hand tightens against my back. “She’s just a friend.”
Am I that easy to read? “How’d you know that’s what I was going to ask?” But my heart races—she’s just a friend, he’s practically holding me in his arms, he’s going to walk me home and she’s just a friend, that’s it.
“You’re cute,” he says, leading me away from the railing. “Tell me you don’t have someone waiting up for you.”
“I don’t.” His arm drops from my waist as we walk through the crowds, but my back tingles where he touched me. I can imagine what it would be like to make love to him, to have those hands touch every inch of my body, igniting my flesh and setting my heart aflame. We walk through streets still busy this late because it’s summertime and morning may never come. It’s just the two of us together, him close beside me, his elbow brushing my arm.
Once we’re away from the boardwalk, he takes my hand without a word, lacing his fingers through mine. Just when I think there’s nothing to say between us, Andrew laughs. “I never thought I’d do this.”
“What do you mean? Do what?”
He glances at me, the smile on his face hard to see in the darkness. “I saw you
last night and haven’t stopped thinking about you since. You’re like the sea, Sean. You’ve gotten inside me and I don’t want to get you out.” His hand squeezes mine in a reassuring gesture. “I just met you, I know. You think I’m a freak.”
“I think you’re beautiful,” I say before I can stop myself, but it’s the truth. I want to lose myself in him—if anyone’s the sea it’s him, I want to drown in him and never resurface. With a tug on my hand, he reels me in, his arm settling across my shoulders as if there’s no place else it belongs.
When we finally reach my apartment, I don’t want to let him go so soon. “Want to come in?”
“I’d love to,” he says. “But we’ve got the whole summer ahead. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and hate myself because we rushed through this.”
“What’s this?”
“Us.”
He leans forward, eyes shut, until his lips close over mine in a kiss that will keep me warm all night. “Can I come by tomorrow?” His breath feathers across my cheek and I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak.
He smells like musky cologne and pepperoni, and his hands are strong on my waist, his lips soft on my own. With his mouth over mine, I admit, “I’m going to dream of you tonight.”
“Sweet dreams then, Sean,” he says, kissing me again. As he pulls away I steal another kiss, and another. I can’t stop myself—he’s addicting like candy, sugary and sweeter than any flavor in the ice cream case back at the shop. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He kisses me once more before turning away. I can’t wait for tomorrow to come.
THE END
Tech Support
My phone rings before I even get my headset on. “Tech support.” I’m a little out of breath because I’m running late again and my boss Cecile is glaring at me from her cubicle, as if I don’t know what time it is. “This is Noah. May I help you?”
Through the phone I hear a girlish laugh. “Late again?”
It’s Becky, Joel’s girl, and I grin as I log onto my computer. “Five minutes.” I’m loud enough that Cecile can overhear. “You want to talk to Joel? He’s still in the lobby, I think. See? I’m not the last one in today.”
Becky laughs again. “Actually, you’ll do fine.”
“Gee, thanks.” I try to sound hurt, but she’s got an infectious laugh, and I can’t stop smiling. I can see her in my mind, sitting behind her desk four stories up. She’s the receptionist for the development department—Joel calls it the Dark Side, though I’m not sure why. “I feel so loved.”
“No, really. There’s this new kid here and he’s having problems with his computer.” Lowering her voice, she adds, “If he comes out here one more time and asks me something, I swear I’ll strangle him. He’s a certified PITA.”
If Becky thinks he’s bad, the kid must be awful. “PITA?” I glance up as Joel walks into the room. Pointing at my headset, I mouth, “Becky.”
A short partition separates his work space from mine. He leans down so she’ll hear him and shouts into my mouthpiece, “Hey honey!”
“Pain in the ass,” Becky explains. “Hey babe! Tell him I said ‘hey back.’”
“She says ‘hey back,’” I tell Joel, and he laughs as he sits down. “Well, if you think he’s a pain, why do you want me to talk to him?”
“Because he’s driving me up the freaking wall,” she says as if through clenched teeth. “He can’t get his connection right, he can’t log into the network, he can’t even get Word to load up…the kid’s computer illiterate, I swear. Whoever hired him should be shot.”
“I’m sure he’s not that bad….” Already I don’t like him. This is a software company, for Christ’s sake. If the guy can’t find his way around a PC and this is only his first day, I don’t think he’s long for the job. “And he’s in development?”
Behind me Joel cups his hands to his mouth and makes slow, deep breathing sounds à la Darth Vader. I ball up a piece of paper and chuck it over the partition at him, but he bats it away playfully.
“He’s in documentation,” Becky explains. “Fresh out of college. He’s here to do the website, but they want him up to speed on the programs and he can’t even get the damn computer to work.”
I groan. “So you’re calling me.”
“You are support.” I hear the smile in her voice. She’s just happy to pass him on to someone else. “His name’s Jared. You still want to give Joel the call?”
I consider it when I hear Joel doing his damn Sith impression. “Luke,” he intones. “I am your father.”
Let him deal with the new guy. But I’m not like that. With a dramatic sigh, I concede. “I’ll take it. You owe me dinner, sister.”
“Chinese tonight,” she promises.
Does that count? She was going to bring in take-out for Joel and me anyway. She gets off at five but every now and then Joel manages to talk her into coming back with something good to eat around seven or so, when we break for dinner. Tonight it’ll be the Chinese buffet down the street. Before I can ask, she puts me on hold.
“What’re you doing talking to my girl?” Joel wants to know.
I cover the mouthpiece and joke, “Trying to steal her away from you.”
Joel laughs—he knows he has nothing to fear from me. Becky’s nice but I’m not into girls. Right now I’m not into much. I listen to the canned hold music through my headset. It’s been months since I last went out with a guy.
Mostly it’s my schedule, working three to eleven Wednesday through Sunday…how am I supposed to meet anyone that way? I’m too tired for the clubs when I get home and the weekends are shot with my job. I need someone I work with, and I’ve thought this time and time again, but there’s no one here I’d want to hook up with when I’m not at the office.
Joel’s staring at me, demanding more of an explanation. With a shrug, I tell him, “She’s transferring me to some new kid in documentation who can’t get the computer to work right.”
“Sounds like a personal problem to me.” Joel winks.
I’m glad I didn’t give him the call.
Suddenly the music cuts off and I hear a defeated male voice in my ear. “Your name is Noah?”
He sounds cute. Young, too. Then again, they all sound cute over the phone. “Yes, I’m Noah.” What did Becky say his name was again? “Jared, is it? How are you doing today, Jared?”
He sighs. “Awful.”
I suppress a laugh. “First day, eh? Becky says you’re having problems with your computer.”
“Becky?” he asks.
“The girl at the front desk?”
“She hates me,” he mutters.
This time I do laugh, I can’t help it.
“She does! I know she does. I keep bothering the hell out of her.”
Aww. I like him already. “So what’s wrong with your system?”
“It hates me, too.”
God, this childish act is just adorable. I can almost see him in my mind—fresh out of college, did Becky say? And hired for the website. Probably wears inch-thick glasses and watches Star Wars…wonder if he knows he’s on the Dark Side, but I don’t want to ask him because then I’ll have to explain it and I don’t really think I can because it’s a Joel-ism I’m not sure I fully understand myself.
When I don’t reply immediately, Jared mumbles, “I’m not an idiot, I swear. I’m just not having a good day, I guess.”
“You only have a few more hours.” I assume he gets off at five with everyone else who isn’t tech support. “Let’s see if we can get your computer working before then okay?”
He sighs, relieved. “Okay. Noah, right? You’re the nicest person I’ve talked to all day. I love you already.”
I laugh at that. Did I mention he sounds cute? I definitely have to ask Becky about him.
* * * *
Ten after five, Joel slaps the back of my head as he passes my cubicle. “Break time.”
Sometimes I hate that he has to sit behind me. I remove my headset and log o
ff the phone before following him out of the office. In the elevator, he shakes a cigarette out of his battered pack, a lighter already in hand. “Did Cecile give you shit for being late?”
I shrug. “She’s just being a bitch.”
We’re always late for work when Joel drives—Cecile should know this by now. Most days he isn’t even out of bed until two, and he rushes around our apartment cussing because he overslept. Then he has to finish his smoke before he comes into the building, so he’s always a minute or two behind me.
But we’ve been working in support for over a year now, we’re two of the best techs they have, we know the software, we know the customers, and we’re good. Cecile knows it. “She’ll get over it.”
Outside Joel lights up and takes a long draw on the cigarette as he looks around the parking lot, which has begun to empty out now that the working day is done. “You should start smoking,” he tells me. “Just for something to do.”
“I need to find a boy.” I lean against the side of the building and squint into the setting sun. “Then I’ll have something to do.”
Joel laughs and waggles his eyebrows my way. “Or someone.”
A few minutes later the doors open and Becky steps out, shades already hiding her eyes. She’s as refreshing as spring rain in her denim jumper and sandals, and I look away as Joel sweeps her into his arms to claim a kiss. “Hey there, honey pie.”
His hands stray to her butt, but she giggles and twists out of his embrace. They’re always like this. “God,” she sighs, taking a puff from Joel’s cigarette. “Let me just tell you guys what a day from hell this has been. Fifteen new hires today and every one of them had some problem or another. ‘Go see Beck,’ Danny told them. I swear he’s out to get me.”
Before Joel even starts his cheesy labored breathing, I know what’s coming. In a deep voice that’s supposed to imitate James Earl Jones and fails miserably, he intones, “Never underestimate the power of the Dark Side.”
